Collin cracks a grin.“That’s the spirit!” He gestures down to his uniform, as if I could have missed it. “I’m on patrol today, but let me know how it goes.”
“Sounds good.”
He turns and walks toward the door.
“Hey, Collin?” I call out when his hand is on the knob. He turns. “Be safe.”
He studies me for a long beat and cracks a grin. “Always. I’ve got a wedding to look forward to.”
With a wink, he’s out the door, leaving me with his muffins and my own muddled thoughts.
23
Wedding Dress Shopping
Noli
“Come out, Magnolia.”
We’re at a bridal shop an hour away from Cashmere Cove. It’s the closest one. My sisters insisted on pulling dresses off the rack for me. I have the first one on, and it’s a definite no.
“This isn’t going to work if you refuse to show us what you look like.” Poppy sounds like she’s tapping her toe on the ground in impatience.
I close my eyes in an extended blink before pulling open the curtain of the dressing room.
Rose covers her mouth with her hands.
Poppy’s jaw drops down to the floor, but she recovers herself. “Okay. Yeah, no. Not that one.”
“You think? I kind of like it.” I swish the fabric back and forth.
“Oh, well. If that’s the case, then, uh, sure. It can be a maybe. How about…a maybe?” Rose is stumbling all over her words.
I fight a smile, trying to keep up the charade.
Rose points at me. “You little stinker. You don’t actually like this one, do you?”
“Heck no. I look like a puffer fish.” The dress is tiered, and the layers looked smooth and chic on the hanger, lying flat over the ballgown silhouette. But on my body, they’re all sticking out at ninety-degree angles.
“A cute puffer fish, though.” Poppy comes and pinches my cheeks.
“Debatable. On to the next.”
I go through four more dresses, and my miniscule amount of hope that I’ll be able to find something is dwindling by the minute.
“I only have one left,” I call out from behind the curtain.
My bare body stares back at me from the oversized mirror in the dressing room. I look away. I don’t like my own reflection. It’s weird. I never used to be self-conscious about my body. I’ve been pretty much a size eight since I got through puberty. I’m strong. Stronger now that I’ve started taking a regular kickboxing class. And I know I have pretty features—or at least people have told me so. But now I feel like I’m a used-up woman. Like a piece of paper that’s been written all over and crumpled up and tossed aside. I hate that Nelson had that effect on me, but it’s not like a switch I can turn off. Now that I’ve seen myself that way, I don’t know how I’ll ever see myself differently. I’ve tried. I mean, I put on that little black dress in Pensacola and let my hair down, so to speak, but theneverythingcame crashing down.
Serves me right.
Then again, my mind flits to earlier this morning in my apartment with Collin. After getting over my initial self-conscious sensation, I was completely comfortable in my own skin around him.
Too comfortable.
I have no idea what he thought of my body, but maybe it’s progress that I didn’t cower, and I didn’t overthink it.
I glance away from my reflection and reach for the final dress.
